The Truth Brings Us Closer
by HR always live on
Summary: My version of series 10, with Harry and Ruth being honest with each other. Probably going to be littered with plot holes, but enjoy! Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

Ruth stretched out on her sofa, wine glass in hand as she took a deep drink of merlot. She was tired. Not just physically exhausted, she was tired of the lies, the secrecy and most especially tired of her non relationship with Harry. It was so exhausting, not knowing what he meant or how he thought of her. What was wrong with the two of them that they couldn't just talk in plain English?

He'd given up a state secret to ensure that she kept her life, in the process throwing his career away. The inquiry had cleared him for the time being, but it was only going to be a matter of time before the third strike would fall and he would be out. Everyone in the entire body of the security services knew that. It wasn't just Albany though. He'd been around too long and knew too much. Too many secrets and lies.

Something else which wasn't improving her mood was the fact she had a tail on her. As soon as she left the grid she'd noticed two men following her, and there was probably a third that she couldn't see. That little prickle on the back of her neck had told her, even before she spotted the six foot man in his late twenties following her. She had no reason to suspect Harry had set people on her, but if he had, she'd kill him. Or maybe she was holding onto the possibility that it was Harry, because the alternative was rather alarming and frightening. But they weren't being subtle about it, or then again, maybe she'd become paranoid while being on the run. A tail was too easy to spot. She'd be furious, but she hoped Harry was having her watched. Maybe he was worried about her? That was the flattering version. The unflattering one was that he thought she was incapable or untrustworthy. No, surely not.

As she was mulling this over she realised she needed to talk to Harry. An honest heart to heart. But if someone was watching her, they would almost certainly be watching him. Harry Pearce was far more important than his senior analyst who was almost always behind a desk. One of the most important MI5 assets in the country, of course he was being watched.

Ruth bit her lip for a moment, thinking. She was sure if she left the house, she'd be followed, bringing them right to Harry's door. Taking a moment to think, she made her mind up. She finished her glass of wine and then picked up a non registered pay as you go phone that she kept for emergencies and called the grid, dialling in her agent code.

"Dimitri, good, I need your help. And Natalie Cordon's too."

"Natalie?"

"The brunette in registry," Ruth explained. "She does have a passing similarity to me, yes?"

"Er… yes," Dimitri said confused. "What… what do you want?"

"I'm being watched. So there's a high chance Harry is too, and I need to talk to him without anyone knowing. So I need Natalie to come to my house and pretend to be me for an hour or two." She didn't pause to think about the implications of her wanting to visit Harry late at night and the fact that she was confiding in Dimitri and asking his help. She couldn't be embarrassed by that right now. "Oh, and I need a distraction for thirty seconds or so, so I can get into his house without being seen."

"Whoa, slow down Ruth. What makes you think you're being watched?"

She almost snorted with derision. Instead she laughed. "I spent three years on the run in a foreign country and manage not to get either caught or shot. Then you come to me and ask how I notice a tail? Please."

"Okay, so how do you know Harry's being watched?"

"I don't, I'm guessing," she said bluntly. "The men… they didn't feel like 5. Why would anyone bother following me, if not for him? After Albany… well… it's become rather public that I'm not simply his employee." She felt her face burn with this, because she didn't enjoy talking about her relationship with Harry with anyone else, let alone someone who she worked with. "I'm a desk analyst. And while I'm damn good, I'm not worth three agents tailing me Dimitri, you know I'm not."

"Let me check the CCTV outside his house and I'll call you back," Dimitri said.

"Call Natalie too," Ruth suggested. "She's been dying for a way to move up to section D, and all she has to do is sit in my house and watch TV. It's a simple task."

"Right." Dimitri put the phone down and Ruth waited for the call back. It would take him maybe five minutes to track down the footage that he needed to, but Ruth could almost visualise what he'd find. An unmarked van sitting outside across the street, surveillance measures going on inside it. When Dimitri called back, it gave her no pleasure that she was right.

"Yes you're right," he said. "Harry hasn't called it in though. He must know they're there."

"Oh he knows," Ruth said with certainty. Why hadn't he called the grid to let them know then? It didn't make sense. "Can you get me out?"

"Unless you have a fondness for broken glass, unlatch your kitchen window. Natalie will be there in ten minutes."

"Perfect," she said.

"Go through Harry's back door, there's only eyes on the front of his house."

"Thank you Dimitri," she said sincerely. She let out her breath in a sigh, feeling some of the tension leave her. Though she knew she wouldn't feel completely relaxed until she'd talked to Harry. He seemed to have that effect on her, as well as revving up her heart rate at the same time. A stupid, illogical and irrational combination. "I'd appreciate this not to be… public knowledge around the grid." Who was she kidding? Everyone would know as soon as Dimitri could call around. Oh well, it couldn't be helped.

"No problem Ruth," he said, without a trace of humour in his voice for which she was grateful. "Bye."

* * *

Harry twitched the curtain, irritated. The Russian surveillance van was hardly discreet and he didn't care for being watched by a foreign power. It was bad enough that certain members of his own country's security services didn't trust him. But he hadn't called for back up because it felt... personal. He knew they were FSB, he'd found a Russian bug in the kitchen, and he'd since scanned the house, finding almost a dozen more, much to his annoyance. They'd broken into his house. He needed to call Malcolm for a favour to upgrade his security system. He felt sure Tariq was capable, but he'd worked with Malcolm for more than fifteen years, and was sure that if Malcolm upgraded his house, no one could get in without his permission.

He turned at the thought, hearing his back door lock being picked. He grabbed his nearest handgun, hidden behind the bookcase and took the safety off and headed towards the kitchen, very slowly. He held the gun steady, aiming at the shadow through the glass. The door lock clicked and then opened, revealing Ruth, much to his surprise. So shocked was he that he just stood stock still, gun still pointed at her. She raised her eyebrows at the weapon and he put the safety back on and dropped it onto the kitchen table. He hadn't meant to point a handgun at Ruth.

"Why are you here?"

"I need to talk to you," she said. "Away from work. I'm being followed." Harry frowned in confusion.

"By whom?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me," she said quietly.

Harry looked in her blue eyes and knew a simple lie wasn't going to cut it. He'd have to go into the complicated truth. Which, to be brutally honest was everything that she deserved. Even if it meant she'd never want to see him again. "Come up to my study," he said. "Do you have time?"

"Mm," she said, a smile hovering at the corners of her lips, now that she could sense that she was close to getting Harry to open up. Or at least partly. Harry smiled but it didn't meet his eyes. He had no idea how long she'd stay once she'd heard about all his past mixed up with the Russians. And the Gavriks. He led the way upstairs and she followed in silence.

* * *

**I had meant to post this later, but I really had fun writing this so I just had to post it! By the way, I'm imagining Ruth's house as series 5, rather than later.**


	2. Chapter 2

Outside his office Ruth was surprised to see a keypad, needing a six digit number for entry. "A bit paranoid?" she asked.

"No, just protecting my best interests," he said. "I have enough information in here to bring down several governments, and I don't want anyone in here."

Ruth felt a brief moment of pleasure that he clearly didn't worry about her presence there, not even bothering to hide the number he pressed on the keypad. They went in and Harry sat behind the desk almost instantly, out of habit. Ruth held in her smile as she sat on the other side of it. "So who's following me?"

"I don't know," he said. "But I know I have an FSB contingent following myself, so they might be watching you too."

"But why?"

"You told me at work that the Gavrik's have flown in, under the radar," Harry said.

"Yes," she said. She had. It hadn't been anything news worthy really. They weren't in London for an official reason, or at least not yet. Ruth had a feeling their presence would develop over the fullness of time. From Harry's next words, her feeling turned into certainty.

"I have a history with them," he said plainly.

"What kind of history?" she asked. He watched her for a moment and Ruth knew this wasn't going to be good. But Harry also knew that Ruth wasn't the type of woman to storm out, simply because she didn't like what she was hearing.

"I had an affair with Elena Gavrik." The silence was acute as Ruth absorbed this information. Then Harry spoke again. "When I was stationed in Berlin with six. During the cold war years."

"How long?" Ruth asked, her voice calm and reasonable now that she'd been able to look past the shock.

"Er… on and off for about five years." Ruth's eyebrows went up in surprise. She hadn't expected it to last that long at all. That was almost as long as his first marriage.

"Were you married at the time?" she asked, still calm. He sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Harry, I don't care what you tell me," she added. "How awkward or unpleasant it is, as long as it's the truth. If you lie to me, and I find out that you lied later… It'll only prove you just don't trust me. And you know how good I am at my job Harry, I will find out."

"Okay," he agreed. "I don't like lying to you anyway."

"Well that's good to know," she said, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"So… yes," he said. "I was married at the time. And I'm not proud of myself."

"Well you'd be a complete bastard if you were," she said. Ruth swearing surprised him so much that he actually smiled. Harry took a deep breath and began from the beginning.

"Ilya Gavrik was my opposite when I was in Berlin," he said. "The idea was to get information on him, using any means possible. My boss told me that. It was up to me to decide which means I would use. Elena was a weak link. She hadn't particularly wanted to marry Gavrik, but he was a powerful man, and she was an orphan with no protection. Elena may be many things, but she wasn't stupid. She knew that by marrying him she would have a very good quality of life for the rest of her days, so she went along with it. Which meant her loyalty to Gavrik was minimal. So I thought that she would be my way in and I tried to turn her."

Harry turned to his filing cabinet and rifled through the middle drawer, looking for a particular file. Ruth couldn't fault his logic, but there was more to this. You didn't simply fall into bed with a Russian traitor for five years if you didn't want to be there. He found the file and laid it on the desk, opening it. It was maybe an inch thick so there was a lot of information there, and Harry found the photographs he was after. He passed the two images to Ruth and she took them. One showed a man who Ruth knew was Ilya Gavrik, though much younger than the intelligence images she'd seen. The other was Elena, looking impossibly young and very beautiful. She was maybe nineteen or twenty in the photo, red hair long and free. Both photos had been taken at an evening event, as they were both dressed up, Ilya in a suit, Elena in a deep green dress which she must have known set her red hair off beautifully. In her left hand she held a champagne glass, her wedding ring visible. Already married then. Sleeping with Harry? Ruth asked herself feeling an unexpected wave of jealousy roll through her. No, that's not helpful Ruth.

"She's beautiful," Ruth said handing the photographs back.

"Well, I thought so at the time," Harry admitted. "I was in a marriage that, without our children would have already dissolved. I did try to get her to talk without getting her in bed, but I will admit I didn't try very hard. It was exciting and dangerous. As a young spy, it was thrilling."

Ruth felt like she couldn't compete. If that was the type of woman he wanted, she had no chance with him. Had she wasted so many years of her life, wanting and loving a man who would never even look at her? As if sensing that Harry carried on. "It was what attracted me at the time Ruth. Not what still attracts me twenty odd years later."

This conversation was heading into dangerous and emotional waters so she coughed and changed the subject away from the two of them. "So, what happened next?"

"Elena ended up pregnant," he said bluntly. Ruth felt herself beyond surprised, if nothing else by the casualness with which he said that. Her face felt numb with shock, but Harry kept speaking. "I have no idea whether the child was mine or Ilya's, even now. Sasha, their son… he's not my child in any way that matters. Ilya is the one who raised him, not me. Sasha has always seen Ilya as his father, he's the one who he turns to when he's in trouble."

"Does that hurt you?" she asked, her tone gentle rather than full of criticism which he'd expected. He looked into her blue eyes for a moment, catching no hatred there at all. Not how he thought she'd look at him at all.

"Wh…" he broke off before trying again. "Why are you asking?"

"Because I want to know," she said honestly. She couldn't imagine his situation, not knowing if the child was his? Even if they'd both been ruining their respective marriages, he didn't deserve that. Or maybe Ruth was so deeply in love with him that she couldn't bear to see or hear anything that might hurt him.

"It did," he said. "At the time when I had to see Sasha most days. The not knowing was the worst I think. Because even if he had been mine, I couldn't have done anything about it. But I would have known the truth." Harry shrugged and looked at Ruth. "Why haven't you run out of the door?"

"Because I want to know everything," she said simply. "Were you in love with her?"

"I think I was," he said. "I denied it at the time to everyone, including myself. Jim Coaver was an American who was working with me on the op against the Russians. He accused me for weeks that I was letting my heart rule my head. And then I was stupid. I was being sent back to Britain, operation over, the Gavrik's were planning on going back to Russia. Simple. But I couldn't let them go. I wanted…" Harry sighed heavily. "I wanted to take Sasha and Elena back to Britain."

"What?" Ruth said incredulously. "Why?"

"So she could escape her husband and Moscow, and have some form of protection from the British state. She'd spied for us, we would have given her that protection."

"But…"

"Did I do it for a more personal reason?" Harry asked, guessing her question. "Yes, I probably did. The affair was over by then. But I think I wanted to see Sasha grow up. Maybe see if he resembled me in any way. Maybe I wanted to keep an eye on Elena too, see if any feelings resurfaced away from the secrecy and spying. But Jim Coaver stopped me. He threatened to shoot me if I insisted on going ahead with this. I don't think he really would have pulled the trigger, but it stopped me. He said Elena was going home, back where she belonged. In London she'd be a liability. A former Russian spy? He had a point. And I never saw her again."

"Not even to say goodbye?" Ruth asked in surprise.

"No, especially not that. It wouldn't have achieved anything." Harry slid the thick file across the desk to her. "All the details are in there. You can read it for yourself, but I'm not lying to you."

Ruth took the file tightly in her hands but didn't open it. She knew he wasn't lying to her. "What has this to do with us being followed now?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. But I imagine that the Gavrik's being back in the country and us both being spied upon at the same time is not a coincidence."

"No," she agreed firmly.

"I would guess… that Ilya found out she was spying for Britain in general and he has probably put it together that she was spying for me in particular. I don't know why they're in Britain now. I don't _know_ anything," he added, emphasising the word "know" very heavily.

"So guess," she said, knowing perfectly well that educated guesses in this business were usually accurate. Or at least in the right ball park.

Harry sighed heavily. "I'm waiting for the day that Ilya Gavrik knocks on my door to accuse me of all those things I did back in the eighties. I'll have no defence because they'll all be true. Or mostly at any rate. Then I imagine he'll kill me."

Ruth lost her voice for a moment in shock. "How can you speak about that so calmly!" she said, voice higher than usual.

Harry smiled at her. "He'll hardly be the first person to try and kill me and I doubt he'll be the last. Ruth, I have no intention to just sit quietly while he fires a bullet into my chest."

"Well that's good to know," she said tartly,

"No, when he comes for me, which I think he will, I'll be prepared. What really concerns me is you," he said quietly. "Why are they watching you?"

"Maybe…" she started, then tailed off as that line of thought would get personal very quickly.

"Go on," he encouraged.

"Albany is a matter of public record now, after the inquiry," she said. "You're never compromised Harry. You're always so steadfast. Maybe they see me as a way of getting to you. Because of what you did for me."

"You know, I'd do it again Ruth," he said in the silence after that statement. "Every time. A world without you in it… Well, I can't imagine it," he added softly.

Ruth blushed because this was the most intimate way they'd spoken to each other in years. Maybe ever. They'd barely spoken when he'd been on gardening leave, him being denied contact to anyone on the grid, Ruth included. Before she could formulate a reply Harry reached for something. A handgun which he placed on the desk with a noticeable thump. "I want you to take this," he said firmly.

"I don't need it," she said.

"No, you do," he said. "I don't think you're in any overt danger, but I want you to take it just in case."

"I have a spare gun at home and I took one with me to come here," she said. "I don't need that one." She reached into her inner jacket pocket showing him the gun before putting it back. "I learned in Europe that being followed makes one wary. I wanted to be prepared."

Harry smiled at her genuinely. "I'm amazed you haven't stormed out yet."

"For something that happened so many years ago? You didn't even know I existed."

"Well, yes, but I hardly behaved decently. I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again."

Ruth shrugged slightly. "I'm not thrilled by this, but we'll work it all out. Unravel it together."

"Good," he said. "To be honest Ruth, that's more than I hoped for." Out of impulse she reached across the desk and held his hand for a moment, the skin contact almost electrifying. They had so rarely touched, the last time being when Lucas had drugged her. She only had a dim recollection of Harry's hands on her face and couldn't remember exactly how it felt either. His thumb ran over her knuckles. "Ring me when you're home safe," he said.

"I will." She stood up, breaking the contact and then grabbed the file. "I'm also going to read this if you don't mind?"

"I didn't lie."

"Oh I know," she said. "If you were going to lie, you wouldn't have chosen something which painted you in such a bad light."

"True." There was an awkward pause as Ruth both wanted to leave and didn't want to leave. "Don't let anyone else read that. It's classified."

"I shouldn't read it either should I? With my clearance level."

"But I trust you," he said simply. "Just give it back to me."

"I will." She wanted to say something, anything to make the moment last longer but she couldn't. Instead, she walked away out of his house, only pausing to tell him that he needed better security on his kitchen door. He smiled, and then she was gone into the night.

* * *

**I think the Russian reception will be next. Thank you for the reviews so far and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

Ruth looked at the clock, eyes itching with tiredness. She'd speed read the entire file and she was exhausted. She'd give it another go tomorrow to pick up on the details, but right now her mind was buzzing with all the new information. Nothing really that Harry hadn't told her, but he'd gone past years in sentences. There was a lot more information in the file. And pictures, mostly of the Gavrik's. Every time she saw one of Elena she felt a stab of jealousy run through her, which she hated because she didn't like being a jealous woman. But Elena was so effortlessly beautiful and elegant. She carried herself well in a way Ruth would never be able to master.

It did give her a small vindictive surge of satisfaction to see pictures of her in the present day. Nearly thirty years later her hair colour had to be out of a bottle and her face was lined. But she was still more elegant than Ruth would have liked. She realised she was comparing herself to the Russian and she shook her head with frustration. "Stop it," she told herself. "No one is comparing us except me. And if Harry is… well there's nothing I can do about it anyway."

She snapped the file shut and got into bed. She hadn't brushed her teeth but she was too tired to drag herself to the bathroom. Evidenced by the fact that she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Harry sat down opposite Towers, waiting. He hadn't called this meeting, Towers had so he wondered why, although he'd bet a six month supply of whisky that that the word Russian would come up.

"Harry, you're not looking well," he said.

"Sleepless night," he said honestly. He'd been tossing and turning for most of it, wondering why Ruth hadn't left him as fast as she could. Then expecting her not to show up for work this morning, but she had. She was on the grid when he'd left for the Home Office.

"Well, I have some news," he said. "The British government is looking to form a partnership with Russia."

"I'm sorry?" Harry said incredulously.

"We need more contacts now that the Americans are pulling away from us," Towers said. "More ties to Europe."

"And you think the Gavrik's are the best way of procuring this deal?!" Harry asked in astonishment.

"How did you know it's Ilya Gavrik we'll be dealing with?" Towers asked.

"I'm not stupid or ignorant. I know they were flown into the country last week."

"Let me guess who found that out for you," Towers said with amusement. "Ruth Evershed. Am I right?"

"She works for me," Harry said, trying and failing to hide his irritation. "Of course she reports to me."

"I'm curious, is there any secret on the planet that she can't discover?"

"Home Secretary, we're getting off of the subject," Harry said rapidly. He privately thought the answer was no. If Ruth wanted some information than by hook or by crook she would get it. Tenacious that woman he thought with surge of pride. "The Russian partnership, are you insane?"

"We're not in the middle of the cold war any more," Towers said. "I knew you'd be unhappy with this."

"Of course I'm unhappy," Harry said. "Gavrik has murdered British spies. He would have killed me if he thought he could get away with it." _He still might,_ Harry thought uncomfortably.

"Times have changed. He's a politician now."

"Oh, so he's whiter than white?"

"Harry, I'm not asking your permission," Towers said wearily. "This is happening. I am asking that you don't oppose me openly. I know you have a history."

"I will do nothing against British interests Home Secretary. You know that. But my history is not relevant." That was a lie. How could it not be? Having a long term affair with Gavrik's wife was always going to be relevant to Ilya no matter how much time passed.

"I don't want to argue with you. I want you to come to the reception on Saturday night. Officially welcoming the Russians."

"You want me to rub shoulders with the man who would cheerfully have cut my throat?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

Harry sighed, eyes burning with anger. "Fine," he agreed. "But I want to bring a guest."

"Of course."

"And if I get one hint that Gavrik is going to hurt me, or any other British citizen, I will withdraw my support, and make this partnership agony every step of the way. Are we clear?"

Towers breathed heavily for a moment. "Perfectly."

"Good." Harry got up, needing some fresh air. He didn't want to be trapped in the Home Office any longer.

"Harry, at the risk of really upsetting and angering you, I want to say something." Harry waited. "You have a good thing in Ruth. Don't let her go."

"Barring any national emergencies, I'll see you Saturday," Harry said, not replying to his comment about Ruth. Then he left the office.

* * *

At the end of the day, Ruth came into Harry's office. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly as she shut the door. She nodded slightly.

"I think I am," she said. "What did Towers want this morning? You looked so angry when you got back."

"He was informing me that we are going to be partners with the Russians, and Ilya is here to negotiate the deal."

"Oh," Ruth said, her breath coming out in a surprised gasp. "Right. So we have to deal with the Gavrik's for a little longer then?"

"Afraid so." She sighed quietly, and he felt a rush of happiness towards her and the fact their feelings were in sync. "Anyway, that's not the point. There's a reception for the Russian contingent on Saturday night. I have to go, I have no choice. But I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me?"

"If I'd like to accompany you," she repeated to herself. "That depends really. Are you asking as my boss, who I'm obligated to say yes to, or are you asking for other reasons?"

"Other reasons," he said. "Although a second pair of eyes might be good, still…"

"Okay," she said. "Yes, I'll be with you to face that nest of vipers."

"Thank you," he said with a smile. "As it needs security I'm going to have Tariq rig up some equipment and keep watch, but otherwise there'll be no protection there. I think it's pretty low risk. Unless we get intel to the contrary."

"I've not picked up anything yet. I'll keep an ear out."

"Great," he said. He closed his eyes for a moment and ran his hand over his face in anguish. "I really wish I didn't have to deal with these people again. I should have retired after the inquiry. Then someone else would have to make small talk with Ilya bloody Gavrik."

Even though some of this situation was of his making, he looked so forlorn that Ruth felt her heart softening towards him more than usual. She reached across the desk and laid her palm across his hand before she even thought about it. Then her brain caught up with her body and she almost snatched her hand back. "Sorry," she said, no idea why she was apologising.

"Don't," he said. "I'm amazed I haven't read your letter of resignation today."

"Don't flatter yourself," she said briskly making him smile in spite of himself. "If I leave this job, it will have absolutely nothing to do with you."

"Good," he said. "I'll pick you up at seven on Saturday?"

"Mm," she agreed. "Goodnight Harry." She got up and left his office and he watched as she left, pausing to grab her purse and jacket. Then she got to the pods and she was gone. He smiled to himself. She really was a remarkable woman. Most women would have run for the hills after what he told her last night. Wanting to get as far away from him as possible, but not her. She was still here, wanting to help with the Gavrik's. And judging from that little touch on his hand, she didn't hate him either. That thought warmed him for the rest of the week, even through a radiation threat which they managed to thwart.

* * *

On Saturday night Harry felt more nervous than he had in years. He frequently felt anxious about political meetings, and the stupid things they might come up with but this was different. He'd not been nervous about a date in many years. Was this a date? It would be very unromantic if it was. Spying on the Russians while they were eating canapés and drinking vodka. But it was more time away from the grid than he'd spent with her before, so he thought maybe he should count it.

The reception had hired a lot of cars, and Harry had one at his disposal, complete with driver. He gave him Ruth's address and then waited for the car to pull up. He could do with a whisky, he thought. As well as seeing Ruth away from Thames House, this was the first time he'd come face to face with Elena and Ilya since the eighties. He was not looking forward to it. But he'd take the good with the bad, he thought as he rang Ruth's doorbell.

"Coming," she called. Harry waited, hearing her curse loudly as well. He smiled, a smile which froze on his face as she opened the door. She looked beautiful. A deep purple silk dress, only one strap over her left shoulder, leaving her arms bare. Her hair was swept up off of her face and the only jewellery she wore was a simple silver necklace. She looked stunning.

"Harry, will you say something?" she asked impatiently, feeling anxious about the silence that had followed his arrival.

"Why were you swearing?" he asked before he could put his brain in gear. Then he felt like kicking himself. He could have complimented her, but no. He puts his foot in his mouth instead.

"Because I hate my shoes," she said. "The shop girl told me that they went with the dress, and they do but they're killing my feet."

"So wear flats," Harry suggested.

"I'm five foot nothing," she said. "I need heels."

"Fine." He smiled at her.

"You clean up nicely," she said, admiring him in a pristine white shirt and black jacket.

"And you look beautiful," he said. She smiled. "Ready?" She nodded and walked to the car.

* * *

**More soon. Thank you for the reviews so far.**


	4. Chapter 4

Ruth was silent the entire journey to the reception. They pulled up outside and Harry turned to her. "Are you okay?"

"I have to face all your ghosts tonight," she said. "I've been better."

He took her hand very gently. "If it's any consolation, you'll be the most… beautiful woman there."

She blushed. She wasn't used to compliments like this, and not from Harry. "I don't know if you're lying to placate me or flatter me."

"He ain't lying Miss," the car driver said before Harry could speak. Ruth turned red, but didn't speak.

"Come on," Harry said, getting out of the car and then giving her his hand. "Ready?"

"No, but lead on," she said. He smiled at her and she laced her hand through his arm. She felt slightly more secure and safe, holding him like this. Still nervous as hell though. Going through the grand doors, they gave their names to a security guard and then were let into the main hall. It was massive.

"By the way, I've got Tariq watching the whole place," he said. "Just in case anything goes wrong."

"That's slightly reassuring," she said. Going through the hall there were so many people. English, Russian, wait staff… everyone, and so few whom Ruth recognised. The Home Secretary was chatting to a couple of politicians, no surprise there and she kept looking around, wanting to see the Gavrik's first. Harry grabbed two glasses of champagne and passed her one. She took it gratefully and then smiled at the look of disgust on his face as he took a sip. "Don't like champagne?"

"Pretentious French fizz," he said. "Give me a good scotch any day of the week."

She smiled and then saw them. "Your three o'clock," she said quietly. "By the bar." He turned unobtrusively and saw both Elena and Ilya.

"Well spotted," he said under his breath, with a tone that told her that he'd be quite happy had he never seen either of them tonight. "Shall we?" She nodded, hoping to get this over with quickly. They approached the Gavrik's and at about five paces away Elena turned to face them. The smile on her face faltered slightly, but she recovered, putting her hand on her husbands arm, making him turn too.

"Ah Harry Pearce," Ilya said, smile on that slimy face of his. "And a beautiful lady I'm not acquainted with.

"This is Ruth Evershed," Harry said, having already decided to give them her real name. If Ilya was having her watched, he already knew it. If he wasn't then it would be easy to look up on the FSB database. "Ruth, this is Ilya and Elena Gavrik."

"Nice to meet you," she lied, with her best effort at a winning smile. Elena smiled back.

"I thought we would die without ever meeting again," Ilya said to Harry.

_So did I_. "Times change," Harry said, faking pleasantries with the Russian.

Elena looked between the two men and then smiled at Ruth. "Shall we leave the men to their politics?"

Ruth smiled back, even as she felt Harry's warning grip on her hand. "Of course," she said sweetly. She let go of Harry's hand and followed Elena across the bar, giving the men some privacy. Ruth wondered whether she'd been trained to do that so she didn't find out what her husband was up to. Ruth clutched her glass of champagne like a life line, very aware she was in the enemies territory.

"Well Ruth, it's lovely to meet you," Elena said, before ordering a drink from the bar. "How long have you known Harry?"

"Eight years," she said. "Maybe a bit longer. Why?"

"Ah, I was curious," Elena said in that soft voice of hers which was rapidly becoming annoying. "Are you aware that we all have a history? In Berlin?"

The look on her face clearly told Ruth that she hadn't expected Harry to confide in her about that. Ruth felt very satisfied at Harry's trust in her. "Oh yes," she said pleasantly. "I know all about it."

"I doubt that," Elena said, taking a sip of her drink.

"Try me," Ruth said, feeling her patience beginning to ebb.

"Oh Ruth, I thought we were going to be great friends," Elena said, contrived disappointment running through her voice.

"Of course," Ruth said. "I believe our countries are going to be on friendly terms now. And all of this is in the past, yes?"

"Yes." Ruth allowed their glasses to clink together. The conversation turned to a vapid discussion about dresses and Ruth was just beginning to get bored out of her mind, as well as wondering what Harry had seen in this woman when the man in question appeared.

"Hello Elena," he said, with measured calmness. "Can I steal Ruth for a minute?"

"Of course," she said. "You're looking well Harry." He inclined his head but didn't reply, instead linking his arm through Ruth's.

"Thank you," she said when Elena was out of earshot.

"Russian conversation is not your idea of fun?" he asked, murmuring into her ear.

"Not with that Russian," she said firmly. She let her breath out in a rush before realising that Harry was leading her somewhere. "Where are we going?"

"I'm leading you to the dance floor," he said. "Away from both the Gavrik's and the bar."

Normally Ruth would have said something like "I don't dance," but at present she was so grateful to get away from Elena that she didn't argue. Instead she heard her heels click on the polished floor as Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and they started swaying to the slow music. She let her hands go around the back of his neck as they moved. Ruth's first thought was, this was intimate. Their bodies had never been closer and his hands were warm through the fabric of the dress. Before she could stop herself, she found her fingertips curling around his neck lightly. "So what did you talk to Ilya about?" she asked, trying to bring things back to normalcy. He looked at her for a moment, as if disappointed in her question. He wanted to just stay here with her and enjoy the moment. Instead he relived the conversation.

* * *

Both women were out of earshot when Ilya spoke. "You've brought a beautiful date tonight Harry. Some things don't change."

"She is beautiful," Harry replied, looking at her retreating back before thinking. "How are you Ilya? You've done well for yourself, or so I hear."

"I'm very well my old friend. You on the other hand, well I hear you've had a bit of trouble lately."

Albany, he thought. So Gavrik knew. And he knew that Ruth was important to him. "Yes, well that's all over now. Ilya, I'd like a favour."

"Anything I can do I will," he said. Harry knew he was lying but he took the opening anyway.

"I have noticed an FSB unit following myself, and Ruth Evershed. I would quite like them to stop."

"Harry, you know perfectly well I have nothing to do with operating the Russian secret service," Ilya said with a smile. "I am simply a politician."

"Not officially," Harry said. "And I know what you do unofficially. It might not sit so well with the British partners you are trying to impress with the union of our two countries. But my mouth will stay shut about your less savoury activities. I want those agents off of both of us."

Ilya's lips tightened in anger. "I told them to make sure you didn't spot them," he said under his breath.

"They didn't do a very good job at that," Harry said acidly. "What were you hoping to find?"

"I believe I'll keep that to myself," Ilya said. "But I will have them removed from your house and Miss Evershed's."

"Perfect," Harry said, eyes blazing with anger. How dare he send spies to look at Ruth? "Now if you'll excuse me, I have lots of people to see. As do you I'm sure."

Ilya nodded and Harry walked away to find Ruth.

* * *

"So we're no longer watched?" Ruth asked.

"Well I imagine one or two agents will still be there, but they'll be more discreet. I know him too well to expect him to keep his word. Just keep your eyes open."

"I always do," she said. Harry smiled at her. "So what next?"

"Next we enjoy the drinks that we're not paying for, and enjoy each others company," Harry said firmly, his hands staying on her waist.

"I meant…"

"I know what you meant," he said. "Lets just see what tomorrow brings."

"Fine," she said, not really wanting Harry to let her go in the first place. "We'll work on it tomorrow."

"Good." The music changed so they paused for a moment until they took up the new rhythm. Still slow, much to Ruth's relief.

"Do you know, I can't believe it's been eight years before I managed to get you on the dance floor," he said.

"You never asked," she said quietly. "That's what you don't seem to realise about me Harry. All you have to do is ask."

"Oh really?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Then he leaned very close to her, so close she could feel his breath rushing over her lips. "May I?" She smiled, but didn't reply. Instead he pressed his lips to hers very, very gently. When he parted from her, her eyes were closed but she was smiling.

"That wasn't so hard was it?" she asked, eyes opening, blue and vibrant. He leaned in again and kissed her a little more deeply this time. His hand slid up her back until it was cradling her head lightly. Soon they were just standing still kissing on the dance floor and she laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Us," she said, rolling her eyes. "Never mind." Harry smiled, then his eye was caught by Towers watching them. He leaned close to whisper in her ear. "I think duty is calling." She turned and saw the Home Secretary and shrugged.

"Okay." She squeezed his arm in farewell and watched him become absorbed in politics within seconds. Then she went off in search of the ladies room.

* * *

On her way back to the main ballroom, Ruth was surprised by Ilya Gavrik appearing, almost as if he'd literally crawled out of the woodwork. "Ah, Miss Evershed, just who I was hoping to see."

"Minister, what can I help you with?" she said, trying to regain her composure.

"It seems we have an acquaintance in common," Gavrik said. "I wonder just how much you know about Harry Pearce."

"I know plenty," she said, her voice cold. "What do you want?"

"Has he told you I wonder," Ilya said. "He spent five years sleeping with my wife."

"I know," she said, her face showing no surprise at all. "Harry doesn't lie to me, minister."

"All men lie," he said with amusement. "Especially to those they love."

"What do you want?" she asked plainly.

"At some point, you will get bored of Harry," Ilya said. "Or, more likely, he will get bored of you. It's just the type of man he is. Commitment was never Harry's strong suit. At that point, if you would like revenge, I am going to be the man you need to contact." Ruth raised her eyebrows as Gavrik tried to hand her his card.

"I'm sorry minister, you have the wrong idea about me," she said, neglecting to take it. "Even if Harry did hurt me in the way you suggest, I would never betray my country by reporting to you, or telling Harry's secrets to you either."

"Ruth, our countries will be sharing intelligence once these talks are over," Ilya said. "You're just helping me, which in turn will help your country."

"I'm afraid you will have to wait until intelligence sharing protocol is established," Ruth said. "I will never betray him."

"You have loyalty," he said, seemingly impressed. "Not a small thing. But I know Harry better than you ever will. He does not deserve your loyalty. It's misplaced Ruth."

"I'm not naïve minister," she said. "I know that with a man like Harry who has spied for most of his life, I will never know everything about him. I've made my peace with that. But if you are looking for a weak link to get to him, you've picked the wrong person. Goodbye minister." She turned and walked away, feeling his eyes in her back the entire way.

Once in the main ballroom she found Harry in minutes, talking to a Russian she didn't recognise. "Can I drag you away?" she asked.

"Excuse me," Harry said to the Russian, moving away. "What is it?"

"We need to get out of here," she said, a look of such alarm in her eyes so Harry didn't argue.

"Okay." He gripped her arm tightly and neither of them spoke until they got in the car. "What is it?" he asked in concern as they drove away.

"Ilya Gavrik just propositioned me," she said.

"I'll kill him," he said. "Did he touch you?" he hissed, venom in his voice. Ruth suddenly realised what her words sounded like.

"No, not like that," she said, covering his hand with hers. "He asked me to spy on you."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Tariq was listening right?" she asked. "Call him, and ask him to play it back, I know there was cameras there, I saw one."

Harry nodded and got his phone out of his pocket. It took two minutes for the call to connect and for Tariq to find the footage. He listened intently, and was rather pleased with the way Ruth handled herself. "Thanks Tariq." He put the phone down. "Why would Gavrik bother?"

"I don't know," Ruth said. "Do you think he wants to get to you?"

"Absolutely," Harry said. "If I found out that a man had been sleeping with my wife for years, the amount of time that passed wouldn't matter. I'd want him dead."

"I didn't know you still carried that much affection for your ex-wife," Ruth said, wide eyed.

"I don't," he replied. "It's the principle. It really is sleeping with the enemy. He wants revenge, and I don't blame him. For that at least."

"Why me? Why talk to me? He must know I work for five. Why would I tell him anything?"

"Maybe…" Harry said slowly. "It was how you presented your answer to him. He wanted to know what was between us."

"Well, Harry that's hardly a secret," she said. "Especially since you kissed me on the dance floor for everyone to see."

Harry smiled at her, a smile which was completely unrelated to the subject they were discussing and Ruth sighed happily. "Harry…" she said warningly.

"All right," he replied. "I don't know what his game is," he added, more seriously. "But I'm not going to waste more time wondering until we have more information. In the meantime…" He turned his attention to Ruth's hand resting on the seat and let his index finger trail over her skin. This was a side to Harry she hadn't seen before, and she was quite surprised to find she liked it.

"Has anyone ever told you, you're a terrible flirt?"

"It's been mentioned," he agreed. She laughed, which was swallowed up by his lips before she could so much as blink. "Oh," she murmured as he kissed her so wonderfully well. His hand caressed her cheek lightly as their tongues tangled together. Suddenly she gasped as the car drew to a stop. Her house. Perfect. She wouldn't have minded had that kiss gone on all night.

"I'll see you on Monday," he said, squeezing her hand in farewell.

"Bye Harry," she said, getting out of the car, a feeling of disappointment clinging to her. She went into her house and then sighed as the car disappeared, presumably to take Harry home. Locking the door she mulled over all the events of the night, taking time to relive Harry's kisses in particular. That… well, that had been something. With a smile she unzipped her dress and went into the bathroom. Some of the Russians had been smoking and she felt mildly dirty with the smell drifting around her.

What Ruth was completely and blissfully unaware of, was that someone was outside her house with a camera. Taking pictures of her.

* * *

**Really enjoying writing this. Thank you for the reviews, it's nice to know others are enjoying it too. More soon.**


	5. Chapter 5

On Monday the first thing Harry did was speak to Tariq. "Was there anything unusual about the event? Apart from Ruth's conversation I mean."

"No," Tariq said. "Politicians getting drunk and that was the height of interest. Sorry if its boring."

"I'd rather boring over dangerous," Harry said. "I need you to look into Ilya Gavrik. Technologically. I want to know all of his emails and anything of interest on his hard drive. I didn't trust him before this weekend, I trust him even less now."

"He has diplomatic immunity," Tariq said carefully.

"I don't care," Harry said. "Just tread lightly, but I want to know what he's up to. He takes priority unless we have a major terrorist incident."

"Okay Harry," he said, getting to work. Harry turned and saw Ruth coming through the pods, a slight smile on her face as she set eyes on him. He felt the knot of tension in his stomach suddenly ease itself as she sat down behind her desk. Even without saying anything, life seemed easier when she was here.

* * *

The days passed with nothing major changing. The talks between the Russian contingent and the British politicians had begun, and Harry was grateful that he wasn't obligated to attend. There was only so many Russian politicians he could stand. Tariq was looking into the Gavrik's computers and email accounts, not finding very much of British interest, until Friday afternoon.

A new email came through with several attachments. Tariq opened it, not expecting much and then his jaw dropped to the floor. "Oh my God," he murmured.

"Jesus Christ," came a voice from behind him. Dimitri. He'd seen the photos, and one look was enough. Tariq minimized the screen quickly. "Where on earth did you get those?" Dimitri asked in a low voice.

"Harry asked me to look into Ilya Gavrik's computer," Tariq said. "That came through in an email just now."

"So you have to show those photos to Harry?"

"Er… yeah," Tariq said.

"It's been nice knowing you." Dimitri said, patting Tariq on the back before walking back to his own desk. Tariq waited until he could breathe again without a heart attack threatening to engulf him. Then, making sure no one was watching him, he opened the window up again. There were twenty four photographs in the email. Twenty four images that Tariq felt sure would make Harry personally kill him for finding them.

Every photograph showed Harry and Ruth in very intimate poses, neither of them wearing a stitch of clothing, writhing in bed together. He closed his eyes but he couldn't get those images out of his head. Harry would kill him. Before he could lose his nerve, he sent the pictures to print, and then closed the program, hurrying to collect the images so no one else would see them. Then he put them in a brown envelope, but it didn't lessen the feeling of him carrying something very akin to a bomb.

Tariq knocked on Harry's office door, feeling his heart race. "Yes?" came his voice. Tariq went in nervously, closing the door behind him. "What is it?" Harry asked.

"You know you asked me to look into Gavrik's computer…" Tariq started.

"What did you find?" Harry asked, cutting to the chase.

"Er… an email just came through. With these." Tariq put the envelope on the desk and could feel his legs ready to make a run for it. Harry opened the envelope, forehead creasing in confusion. And then he saw the photographs. Harry quickly flicked through them, each of them more graphic than the last.

"How many people have seen these?" he asked quickly.

"Just me," Tariq said, conveniently forgetting Dimitri for the moment.

"Tariq, I assure you that these have been photo shopped," Harry said, his voice quiet. Dangerously quiet as his eyes scanned the images over and over. "They have to be, because this never happened." It was as if he was speaking to himself and Tariq was no longer important. "Find out who sent these to Gavrik," Harry said firmly. "I don't care if you need to break the law to do it, I'll sign whatever permission you need. Just find who did this!"

"Of course Harry," Tariq said, eager to get out of there.

"And… send Ruth to my office. But don't tell her about what." Tariq nodded and left the caged lion alone, much to his relief.

"Ruth, Harry wants to see you," he told her in the most casual voice he could manage. She nodded and locked her computer before going to his office. Dimitri looked at Tariq. "You're alive," he stated.

"You didn't see those photos okay?"

"Fine," Dimitri agreed easily. "My lips are sealed." Tariq nodded and then worked on tracing the email.

* * *

"Harry?" Ruth questioned. "You want to see me?"

"Close the door," he said firmly, as he drew the blinds. She did and sat down opposite him, concern and worry starting to make their way known in her mind.

"What is it?" she asked quietly. "Another ex mistress from your past?"

She thought that might raise a smile from him, but it didn't. "I asked Tariq to look through Gavrik's computer. As much as he could do remotely. Gavrik received an email this morning. With these." He slid the envelope across the desk and she took it, completely unaware of what it contained. She took the sheaf of images out and her jaw dropped open. "Oh my God!" She went through all of the salacious images, dropping them on the desk one by one. "But this… it's impossible!"

"They've clearly been photo shopped," Harry said, his voice steadier than his mind. "Obviously, as this never happened. Don't panic."

"Don't panic!" she said in shock. "This is me!"

"No, its not," he said. "Someone's just pasted your face onto these pictures."

"No," she said firmly, shaking her head. "Look. Actually look!" He'd been trying not to look too closely at the photos, not wanting the first time they ended up in bed together to be tainted. If it ever happened that is. But Ruth was now waving one particular photo under his nose. "This… it's me in the photo because she's got my birth marks. Look at my left hand." She put her hand on the desk, and Harry saw a small freckle near her wrist. Then he looked back at the photo. She was right. "And this one," she said picking up a different photo. "I have a scar on my knee, just like this. And..." she found a third picture. "I have a freckle right… there," she said, not actually saying the words. He looked at the photo and saw a mark on the right breast of the woman in the picture. Harry suddenly felt himself getting hot under the collar.

"You're telling me… that this is actually you?" he asked, suddenly making it a lot more difficult for him not to look at the images of a naked Ruth.

"Yes!" she said. "Oh my God!" Her hands covered her face in distress and she felt like crying. "Someone's actually been spying on me, taking naked photos of me?" She shook her head. "God I feel sick." Harry picked up one image, studying himself closely. Ruth however got the wrong idea. "Oh I see! Now that you know its me, you're trying to get an eyeful! Have you not seen enough! God Harry!"

"No, I'm not looking at you, I'm looking at me," he said firmly. He kept studying his photographic self and then shook his head. "It isn't me," he said surely. "The scars are slightly off." As well as that, he was sure that if he ever had Ruth in his bed, the look on his face would be much more intimate and loving than the ones showed in the pictures. But he didn't say that.

"Oh perfect," she said. "My privacy is violated, but they didn't bother with you? That makes me feel so much better," she added sarcastically. Harry watched her critically for a moment. "Sorry, I know this isn't your fault. It's just… to know I've been watched like that. It's just…"

"Not pleasant," he finished. "I know." He gathered the photos up, face down then put them in the envelope, handing them to Ruth. "Destroy them," he said. "Do what you like with them. And just for the record… I didn't look longer than I had to, to see what they were."

"Thank you," she said, clutching the envelope. "Who else has seen them?"

"Tariq. I told him they were completely shopped, and I've asked him to trace who sent them to Gavrik. No one else need know." Ruth nodded her thanks.

"This has just suddenly turned so seedy and cheap," she said. "What's the point? Why does Gavrik want those photos? What benefit would it give him?"

Harry marvelled at her. He hadn't got that far in his thinking, and it wasn't his privacy that had been invaded. "I don't know," he said. "I… hadn't thought about it."

"What does it get him?"

"Maybe…" Harry started. "Proof. That we're together. How we feel about one another." Ruth's lips twitched uncomfortably.

"Why would Gavrik even care?" she asked. "What does it matter if you're seeing a hundred women?" He stared at her for a moment, the question in his eyes. "I meant, what does it matter to him," she edited.

"I didn't destroy him," Harry said slowly. "Back then, I… destroyed his marriage. Turned the one person against him who he cared most for in the world. He adored Elena. He…" It hit Harry like a train, and he knew with a certainty he could never explain that this was accurate. "He isn't going to kill me or even try to hurt me. He's going to go after you."


	6. Chapter 6

"You can't have a dozen MI5 agents stationed outside my house on a guess," Ruth said firmly, trying to inject some sense into the plan he was outlining for her protection.

"Oh yes I can," he said. "I am not risking your life for my past."

"Harry stop," she said firmly, placing her hand on his arm to make him stop pacing up and down in his office. "I will be fine. He's not going to murder me in my bed." The look of downright fear on Harry's face showed that that was exactly what he was afraid of. "Come on Harry, calm down. Just think rationally."

"I can't," he said, sitting down anyway. "Not when the irrational version worries me like this."

Before she could say anything else to reassure him, there was a knock on the door. "God what now," he said under his breath. "Come in."

Tariq appeared, laptop in hand. "I found out who sent the photos," he said, seemingly embarrassed, now that both Ruth and Harry were present.

"They were fake photos Tariq," Harry said with a trace of irritation in his voice.

"Right, of course," he said, wanting to move off of this dangerous subject. "Well, I traced it to a small internet café, which luckily has CCTV outside it." Tariq opened the laptop and got the footage queued up. Both Harry and Ruth moved so they could see the screen. "Right, the email was sent at 2-17, so I watched from that point on to see who left the building." He played the footage at about double real speed and a group of three girls came out, early twenties maybe.

"It's not them," Ruth said with surety. She knew the signs of college students on their gap years. "Australians have nothing to do with this."

Harry stared at her. "How do you know they're Australian just by looking at them?"

Ruth smiled at him, then pointed at the bag just in view of the camera. There was a small Australian flag stitched onto it. "I'm guessing," she said with a smile.

"No, not them," Tariq said. "But this guy is rather interesting." He paused the footage, leaving a man in his late twenties wearing a suit on screen.

"Who is he?" Ruth asked. Tariq typed quickly, bringing up his file on the Thames House database.

"James Sutton," he said. "Twenty nine, and he works directly underneath…"

"William Towers," Harry said, reading off the screen. The growl in his voice was unmistakable. "I'm going to kill him."

"Harry," Ruth warned. "He's the Home Secretary. I think killing him might be slightly out of the question."

"I don't care," he said, getting up. Tariq quickly made himself scarce, leaving Ruth with a very angry Harry.

"You can't do him any damage," she reminded him.

"Not physical," he agreed. "But I can threaten him with the best of them. Don't leave the grid until I get back," he said firmly.

"Harry, do you… really think I'm in danger?"

"Yes," he said sincerely. "I'm sorry, but I do." She looked at her hands for a moment, simply not wanting it to be true. "Ruth, I won't let anyone hurt you," he said. "I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she said quietly.

"I won't," he said firmly. Ruth looked up at that, into those beautiful hazel eyes that she so desperately wanted to believe. "Just stay here until I'm back," he said firmly. "I'll make sure you're safe."

"Okay," she said. "Don't kill Towers."

"I'll do my best." Harry left his office and when she was alone Ruth sighed. Things had suddenly got a lot more serious very quickly.

* * *

"No, I don't have an appointment," he said to the stupid receptionist who William could only be keeping for her looks. "But I need to see him now. It's urgent."

"Well, I'm afraid he's busy," she said.

Harry shook his head in irritation and barged past her, ignoring her squeak of alarm and protest at his presence. Harry opened Tower's office door and then paused at the rather surprising sight in front of him. Towers and a woman who was most certainly not his wife very nearly stark naked on top of his desk. Harry had to try hard not to smile at his luck as the other two scrambled for clothes.

"Jesus Harry, haven't you ever heard of knocking?!" Harry had been around Ruth too long, he thought with pleasure as the platinum blonde quickly pulled a dress over her naked figure and then opened a back door without a word, which was evidently how she came in in the first place.

Towers didn't speak until he'd buttoned his shirt up. "What in God's name do you want Harry!"

"I want to know how you got naked photos of Ruth, and why you mocked them up with me before sending them to Ilya Gavrik."

"I did no such thing!" he said in mock outrage. "Come on Harry, you know me better than that."

"I do," he said. "Which is why you sent James Sutton to do your dirty work for you. Why?"

Towers sighed. "I need Gavrik's support," he said. "This partnership cannot fail. You know how fragile the UK economy is. We need help Harry. The Americans aren't forthcoming and we have to do something soon otherwise we're going to sink in the international market without a trace. Gavrik asked me for a favour. Before he agreed to fly over here in the first place. He asked me to find out the most… important person in your life and the nature of your relationship. Otherwise he wouldn't even consider this deal, and he would recommend to his superiors in Moscow that no Russian politician should go near the UK. I didn't like doing it Harry, you're a friend. But this was important. The photos were the last thing he wanted."

"You could have faked them," Harry said. "Why did you have to get real pictures of Ruth naked? Why?"

"How do you know they were real?"

"Because I showed her the pictures," Harry said. "And that doesn't answer my question."

"I had a newspaper photographer stationed outside her house for a couple of weeks. Cash in hand," he said quietly. "I thought it would add some authenticity. I know you Harry, you would have spotted a photographer. Ruth's good but I thought I had a better shot."

"I want those originals," he said firmly.

"Oh so you want to leer over her do you?" Towers said, amusement lacing his voice. Harry curled his hand into a fist and punched the desk with a loud thump.

"I want those photos destroyed," he said, ice colouring his voice. "I want them out of your traitorous hands, and I want no one, including James Sutton or whoever else you involve looking at them. Am I clear? Or shall I call Susan and let her know about the twenty something blonde you entertain in your office on Friday afternoons?"

Towers sighed, then opened his desk drawer. He reached for the SD card and gave it to Harry. "Are these the only copies?" he asked.

"Yes," Towers said. "Gavrik is dangerous Harry. But we need this deal."

"I know what he's capable of," Harry said. "He doesn't even blink at murder, I'd hate to see what it would take to stop his conscience. Thank you for the photos and I'd appreciate no more late night spying outside of Ruth's house."

"Fine."

Harry walked out of there, the memory card gripped tight in his hand. He was not going to loosen his grip on it until he'd given it directly to Ruth.

* * *

"There," he said putting the SD card in her palm. "The originals."

"Thank you," she said. "Why did he do it?"

"It sounded like Gavrik was blackmailing him. Saying if he didn't find out about my personal life, he'd make sure the partnership between us was derailed. And as there was nothing there, Towers faked the photos."

"So he's seen me… like that?" Ruth closed her eyes in distaste.

"I've got him over a barrel though," Harry said, not knowing what else to say that would make her feel better. "I walked in on him with a blonde prostitute."

Ruth's eyes went wide at that. Then something else occurred to her. "How do you know she was a prostitute?"

"She had the look," Harry said with a shrug. "Plus what twenty year old is going to want Towers if she's not being paid for it?"

Ruth smiled indulgently at him. "Sometimes I think you know so little about women Harry," she said. "Women are attracted to more than simply what a man looks like. There are more important things." He stared at her for a moment and she felt a blush creep its way up her cheeks. "I'm going to go home," she said. "Take a look at these and then put the card in a fire."

Harry smiled. "I'll send someone to keep an eye on you," he said. "Just in case Gavrik gets any ideas."

"I don't need babysitting," she said firmly. "I can take care of myself."

"Ruth…"

"No Harry," she said. "He isn't going to come after me when I'm at home. It'll be when I'm somewhere else."

"I still think it would be better if someone was looking out for you," he said. "Just in case."

"Harry, I said no," she replied.

"Okay," he said, knowing when arguing was pointless. He could order her to accept the fact that she would have agents watching her house, but he didn't like using his place in Thames House like that for anyone, let alone Ruth, who was so important to him. "Just… take care."

"I will," she said. "I'll be stapling my curtains closed when I get there." Harry let a smile turn his lips upwards and then watched as she left the rapidly emptying grid. Once she was out of sight, he picked up his phone and ordered three MI5 agents to watch her. He didn't care if she'd be angry with him, her safety was far too important.

* * *

**Thank you for the reviews so far. For those of you wondering who Ruth might have been with, I'll be addressing that in the next chapter.**


	7. Chapter 7

Ruth scanned the pictures from the SD card and waited for them to load on her laptop. "Jesus." There were more than a hundred photos on there. All of her, some of her dressed, most taken with a zoom and of her wearing nothing at all. Ruth felt anger creeping up over her. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm down, and trying to remember when she'd undressed without pulling the curtains closed. She wasn't stupid, but for the life of her she couldn't remember.

When looking at the photos with a calm (ish) mind, they weren't so bad. And they certainly weren't as explicit as the shopped images either. It was almost as if she was looking at video footage, every frame printed. The guy with the camera must have taken two dozen shots a minute with this, at least.

There were also several pictures of her naked in bed, the sheets pushed aside and then she remembered. It had been so hot one night that she couldn't sleep. She'd opened the window for some fresh air and she must have forgot to close the curtains. She had tossed and turned for most of the night, unable to sleep, throwing the sheets off of her sweaty body and she guessed that to be where the writhing shopped images of her came from. She felt foolish for being caught out by something so simple, but it had been so hot. She'd needed the air.

She opened the brown envelope to have a look at them again. This time with a critical eye, rather than an offended one. On the third photo she looked at, she could see that the angle of her body wasn't quite right for the pose she was in. It just looked off. She looked at the laptop images and found one that matched it. It had been rotated slightly and that's why it looked wrong, because in the genuine image she was upright. Ruth was alone in all of them of course, but it had just occurred to her, what if Harry thought she'd been sleeping with someone else? That was a more horrific thought to her than how many people had seen the pictures.

Before she called him, she double checked all the images and found how they matched up to the originals, at least on her part. Someone was damn good at photoshop. They'd done their level best to rotate her figure until it looked the most revealing and on one particular rather graphic photo, the scar on her knee had vanished. Ruth smiled with triumph. So… when they hadn't been able to get her in the right position, they'd faked it. That was satisfying. But the smile faded from her face when she realised Harry might think she'd been with another man.

Before she even contemplated what she would say, she found herself dialling Harry's all too familiar number. "Yes?"

"I need to ask you something," Ruth said, her voice quiet and pleading.

"About what?"

"The… originals. Just in case you were thinking… someone else was with me and we were… that's not true. I was alone Harry." She hated the way she was tripping over her words. "The images were just… very well manipulated, but there hasn't been anyone else." She knew perfectly well that she sounded like she was justifying herself, and she hated that.

"Ruth, it's none of my business," he said quietly. "We're not… together. If you're with someone else that makes you happy…"

"No!"

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. It upset him immensely to think of her in bed with another man, but he couldn't exactly blame her. They weren't together, and his history of a long standing affair was what was currently causing so much mess at work… Well, it would be rather hypocritical to condemn her. Even if images of her in bed with a mystery man were burning into his mind. Helped by those damn photographs.

"And here I thought the worst thing that would happen today was having unknown men look at naked photos of me," she said under her breath. Harry thinking she'd been with someone else hurt. "Look, if you really want to, you can come over here and check out the photographs frame by frame."

"Forget about the photos," Harry said after a beat of silence. "You're free to do what you want."

"Harry, please… just take a minute and try to believe me," she said. "When would I have the time to meet anyone else? You have me working every hour of the day, and the overtime rate I get paid is terrible by the way. When I'm not at work I'm sleeping. Alone," she added.

Harry sighed heavily, but didn't speak and in that moment she knew that he did believe her, much to her relief. "I have something to tell you," he said quietly. "Elena Gavrik's contacted me. She says she needs to meet me tomorrow."

"Okay," Ruth said, the photographs all but forgotten. "Why?"

"I don't know."

"Are you going to go and meet her?"

"I think I have to," Harry said. "I have no idea what she's going to tell me, but I'd rather get all the information I can. Even if she's lying."

"Right," Ruth said, feeling her heart sink.

"I'm going to wear a wire, and I want you listening in," he said. "If you wouldn't mind."

"Of course," she said, feeling her well earned Saturday off suddenly evaporate. But if she was being honest with herself, she was curious about what, if anything was still between those two. "Yes, I'll do it. Why do you want me to?"

"That woman can be as venomous as a python," Harry said. "Another set of ears would be doing me a favour."

"You can't have always thought of her that way," Ruth said before she could stop herself.

"No," he said. "I was young and stupid. But I never trusted her completely. She was always dangerous."

"Well, I'll listen in if you want me to."

"Thank you," he said. "It's late, you should get some sleep."

"What? Knowing that a Russian with a vendetta and a desire to see a bullet through my chest is going to be coming after me, probably looking at naked pictures of me at this very minute, and MI5 are stationed outside my house? Yes, that's a recipe for a good nights sleep," she said sarcastically. Harry chuckled and she smiled in spite of herself.

"I knew you'd spot them," he said. "I know what you said, but I need you safe."

"Thank you for ignoring me," she said sincerely. "When's the meet?"

"Eleven tomorrow morning," he said. "Thank you. I know this can't be easy for you."

"Whenever was _easy_ in MI5's job description?" she said with a slight smile. "I'll see you on the grid tomorrow. Goodnight Harry."

"Night Ruth." She put the phone down and sighed, feeling things start to spin out of control. Gathering the photos up, she put the SD card in the envelope with them, and then stuffed them in a drawer. She didn't know why she didn't just burn them, but she didn't. Instead she yanked the curtains closed as far as they would go and then got into bed. As much as she'd like to stay awake, mulling things over, her body needed sleep. And there was always a slim chance that her dreams might be filled with Harry.

* * *

"You can hear me?" Harry asked, just before he stepped foot into the opera house to meet with Elena, where she'd said she could be alone.

"Yes," Ruth said firmly. "Dimitri is stationed a street away too, just in case this is a trap."

"Reassuring," Harry said, taking a deep breath. He went inside and within a couple of minutes he saw Elena. Alone. Breathing a sigh of relief he sat down next to her.

"Harry," she said quietly, a smile on her lips. "It's good to see you again."

"Elena, how are you?"

"Fine all things considered," she said.

"Why was it so important that we meet?" he asked, very aware Ruth was listening in.

"Harry, you never change," she said, amusement lacing her voice. "The woman at the reception. You were always looking for the latest model on your arm. She's pretty. In an English country girl type of way."

"If you're only here to talk about Ruth, I'm leaving," he said firmly.

"I am here to talk about her," Elena said. "Just not like that. Ilya. He wants revenge."

"I had deduced that much," Harry said coldly. "How did he find out about us?" he asked, wondering how long Ilya had known about the long affair all those years before.

"I was unlucky," Elena said. "Sasha. After a few years Ilya wondered why we never had another child. Why Sasha was the only one. He wanted an army of sons. So… he had himself checked. He can't father children."

Harry took in a sharp breath. "So… Sasha. He's… mine?"

"Yes Harry," she said. "I'm sorry." Harry said nothing, because there was nothing he could say. He'd had a child for more than two decades out there, living in Moscow, and he hadn't known. The rational part of him thought that was probably for the best. After all, he hadn't exactly been a stellar father to his first two children. It took him a moment to realise that Elena was still talking. "… went mad. I thought he was going to kill me. All he wanted was to know who. So I…"

"Gave him my name," Harry finished with a sigh.

"I was frightened. I was never made to be a spy. I'm not made strong like you. I'm sorry."

Harry sighed heavily. "What then?"

"Ilya told me that if he ever got the chance to come to Britain, he would personally destroy you. That's why he's here. He doesn't care about a Russian UK partnership, even though there are those in Moscow that do. He wants to ruin you. And he's had a long time to think about it. He thinks that shooting you is too easy. He wants to make you live with the pain, so he wanted to know who's the most important person in your life. Even to someone who isn't watching closely, it's obvious it's Ruth."

Ruth felt her stomach twist in annoyance. But she carried on listening. "I had assumed Ruth was his target," Harry said. "I've intercepted some photos that he had sent."

"What photographs?"

"That's irrelevant," he said firmly. "What else can you tell me about Ilya's plans?"

"Not much," she said. "He isn't planning on making her suffer though. He'll shoot her rather than draw it out." Ruth felt her heart go cold. "After all, it isn't her who he wants to hurt."

"Yes, well first he has to get to her," Harry said. "And that will not be easy. I'm keeping her safe."

"Are you sure Harry?" she said. "Ilya is not a man to be told no."

"I'm well aware. Thank you Elena," he said, hurrying out of the door. Elena watched, waiting until his steps died away and then picked up her mobile phone. She dialled a number and then heard the click of the phone connecting.

"It's done," she said in Russian.

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Great. Head back to the Russian embassy." She smiled and put the phone back in her purse. Life was sweet. Would that death be sweeter? Only time would tell.

* * *

"You're going to a safe house, and that's the end of the conversation," Harry said firmly.

"We need to talk," Ruth said quietly. "About what we're going to do. How we can get out of this. Ilya isn't going to stop until one or other of us is dead. Harry, we need a plan."

He paused for a moment, but then realised she was right. "Yes," he said. "We do." Harry turned, locked his office door and then pulled the blinds, wondering where they were going to start.

* * *

**I think there's only 2 chapters left of this fic. Thanks for the reviews so far. More soon**


	8. Chapter 8

**An extra update today, as I have a busy weekend. I apologise for the plot holes, which I'm sure are massive.**

* * *

Harry sat down and felt highly uncomfortable with the charged silence. He wanted to end it but he had no idea what to say to Ruth, or anything logical to say at all. "So Sasha…" Ruth said. Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

"Yes," he said not looking at her. "It doesn't change anything."

"Harry, how can it not?" she asked quietly. "You have a son."

"I always knew there was a chance," he said. "Sasha will never know and that's the way its supposed to be. Terrible man it might make me, but right now I'm more worried about you."

"Harry, at the risk of being horribly blunt and brutally rejected, I'm going to be honest," she said. "I want to leave the service. And I'm asking you to come with me."

His eyes popped open with surprise and not a little shock. "Ruth?" he asked, voice breaking slightly on her name.

"I've had enough Harry," she said quietly. "Protecting the country is all well and good, but I can't bear the price that comes with it. I need to leave. Given time it will destroy me." She took a deep breath before carrying on. "Now correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you've become rather tired with MI5. I think you've had enough too."

"You know me better than any other person in the world," he said quietly. "I used to be proud to be here. But in the last couple of years it's become difficult. Politics intruding on everything. Words like blackmail and treason becoming common on our own side. Yes, you could say I've become… disillusioned."

"Well, at least that's one of my assumptions proved right," she said, a small smile on her face. "Would you?" she ask. "Leave with me?"

"You'll get bored of me," Harry said, not knowing what else to say. "But yes," he said. "If you wanted my company, of course I would. MI5 has nothing for me anymore, save my pension. It has no lustre. The shine has worn off."

"I don't want to leave with you for the pleasure of your company," she said firmly. "I want…" she sighed, heavily and from the heart. "I love you Harry. I'm so terrified to say it, because its been unsaid between us for so long, but it's always been there." Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears and he reached across the desk, holding her hand tightly. She couldn't have pulled away, even had she wanted to. As it was, his warmth on her palm was exceedingly comforting.

"You know how I feel about you," he started, then she interrupted him.

"It wouldn't hurt my ego to hear you say it," she said, lips twitching. He smiled and got up, walking around the desk and then leaning over her. He tilted her chin upwards and then kissed her so exquisitely gently that Ruth felt her heart skip several beats. His mouth was soft and warm on hers, his tongue gently licking across the seam of her lips, so she opened her mouth to him. She gasped as his tongue stroked hers slowly, deliciously. They'd kissed at the reception, but this was different. More private and much more intimate. God, no wonder Elena had fallen into bed with him. If he could kiss as well as he… The thought was cut off by his lips leaving hers and touching behind her ear softly. She shivered at such an intimate and unexpected contact and then gasped as he sucked her earlobe delicately.

"I love you," he murmured into her ear, voice ragged with emotion. "I love you, and I always have." She smiled at him as he pulled back, eyes shining with honesty and an unusual smile on his face.

"You've completely distracted me," she said, trying to pull herself together.

"As I intended," he whispered. He kissed the tip of her nose, which shouldn't have been arousing but it was. He sat back in his seat on the other side of the desk and Ruth felt his absence acutely. It seemed he did too, because he reached for her hand once again, without thinking about it. Ruth smiled at the touch, and let their fingers dance together, slowly and sensually.

"But Ruth, what you're suggesting… we've barely spent any time with each other that hasn't been in this building," he said, hating to bring logic into it, but knowing he had to. "Do we even know each other away from all the lying and secrecy?"

"Yes Harry, we know each other," she said, pleased that this seemed to be his most pressing problem at her suggestion that they leave the service together. "Of course we do. We've probably spent more time together here than with anyone else."

"I've done some terrible things," he said grimly, but still not relinquishing his grip on her hand. "If you knew, you might not be so ready to leave MI5 with me."

"Of course I know Harry," she said, just about managing not to roll her eyes. "I am the best analyst that you have ever had."

"Modest too."

She smiled. "Even if there's not a file for it, I know. Arkardy Katchimov? Nicholas Blake? I know you murdered both of them. For revenge on Adam and Ros's deaths. I'm not stupid Harry, I know what you've done. And it may make me as bad as you to condone it, or to say I don't care. But I don't. I really don't."

Harry sighed, as if he simply couldn't believe her, so she continued.

"I love you for you," she said. "Not just the parts that are presentable to the rest of the world. I've worked for you long enough to see what happens here, and while some things that we do are atrocious, we know that they're necessary, sometimes to protect us from even worse. All you have ever done, is to do what you think is best with the information you had at the time. That's all any of us can do here."

"Why are you so reasonable?" he asked with a smile.

"It comes from years of working for you and holding my temper," she said, grinning back. "Is that a yes? Do you want to leave with me?"

"Yes," he said. "I don't know that you won't get sick of me in a few months, but yes."

"Good." Ruth sighed in relief. "Because I have a plan."

* * *

Ruth kept her eyes alert, going between the different laptop screens that showed all the CCTV of the entry points to her safe house. It wouldn't be long now. She knew Gavrik was coming for her, it was only a matter of time. Her location had been in the system for two and a half days now, plenty of time for Gavrik to either bribe or hack his way in to the system and find out where she was. Ruth had a gun for her own protection, but she knew if it came right down to it, Gavrik would fire first. He didn't have a little thing called conscience worrying him.

If she had to guess, she thought Ilya would come at night, when his presence wouldn't be missed from his official activities. Harry and her had also agreed that he would come in person. He wouldn't leave this murder to someone else. It was too important. Ruth rubbed the tiredness away from her eyes. What she wouldn't give to just sleep for the next month, her mind worry free. "Soon enough Ruth," she told herself. If this went bad, then she wouldn't have to worry about lack of sleep. If it went well, then… She sighed, cutting off that train of thought. Then she saw it. A car with diplomatic plates.

She'd had her phone clutched in her hand and she dialled Harry's number automatically. "I think it's him," she said.

"I'm on my way." She put the phone down and watched the cameras. Maybe twenty seconds later, a figure came into view. It was Ilya. "Shit," she muttered under her breath. She reached for her gun, checked it was loaded and took the safety off. Then she pointed it at the door. Which was kicked down a second later, completely off its hinges. Ruth held the gun steady, pleased to see that she'd at least slightly startled Ilya Gavrik, a gun in his hand, but held at his side for the moment.

"I knew you were coming," she said. "Harry's on his way, you're never going to get away with this."

"It's not about getting away with it," he said. "I need to hurt him. I don't mind if he's here, I'd appreciate an audience," he added callously. His grip tightened on the gun.

"Don't," she said. "I'll shoot you."

"Ruth, you're not going to shoot me," Ilya said with such surety that it made her blood boil. "You're an intelligent woman, and you don't like killing for sport. Apart from your terrible taste in men, I would admire you. As it is I am sorry that it's you."

"You shoot me, and Harry will kill you," Ruth said firmly.

"He has to find me first," Ilya said. "It's about fifteen minutes from his house to here. That's with no traffic. He cannot get here in time to save you Ruth." She felt a slight twinge of relief, because she knew perfectly well he hadn't been at his house. Then that was eclipsed by shock as Gavrik raised the gun and pulled the trigger in one quick motion. Out of instinct she shot back, and then collapsed, the pressure on her chest immense.

* * *

Harry heard the shots ring out in the flat, and he didn't wait for questions, fear filling him. He shot Gavrik in the back and the Russian collapsed with a grunt of pain. Harry kicked the gun out of his hand, ignored him and then hurried over to Ruth who was trying to sit up, heavily, clearly winded.

"Are you okay?" he asked urgently, helping her to get up.

"I'm going to have bruised ribs for a month," she said, touching the bullet hole in her shirt, and relieved that her bullet proof vest seemed to have done the trick. Harry smiled at her and let his hand cradle her face for a long moment.

"Go," he said. "Quickly, just go. You need to get to Portsmouth. Catch the ferry."

She smiled and then kissed him very gently. "You've got the body in the morgue sorted? My replacement?"

"Yes," he said. "I'll join you in a few weeks. When my resignation goes through and no one's asking awkward questions about your body."

"Make sure you do," she said. "I don't want to be all alone in Spain for long."

He smiled. "I guarantee it."

"Is he dead?" she asked, nodding at Ilya. Harry reached for his neck and felt for a pulse. Nothing.

"Yes," Harry said grimly. He hadn't wanted another death on his conscience, but he supposed as long as that death wasn't Ruth's, he'd manage. "But you're alive," he said. "Thanks to your own ingenuity." Ruth rolled her eyes slightly. It had been her who suggested that Elena had only told Harry about Ilya's plans to get him to act on his protective instinct. Elena hadn't told them anything they hadn't known, except to confirm it. And the first thing Harry had wanted to do? Put Ruth in a safe house. Ruth had suggested that that was the intention. She'd then asked how many enemies Harry had made. How many people could try and kill her to get to him. The answer was discouraging, and she had guessed that the only way they'd ever be safe, was if she were dead. It had taken a bit of persuasion for Harry to go along with it, but he'd seen the sense and the logic.

She walked to the door and then looked back at Harry. In a moment she was in his arms, kissing him fervently. Kissing him goodbye. "Go," he breathed into her hair. "Ambulances will be here any minute for Gavrik. I'll tell them you were already taken by a quick ambulance. I've got someone in dispatch to lie for us."

"Thank you," she said. "Come soon."

"I will." She looked at him once more, picked up her bag of meagre belongings and then vanished into the night. Harry sighed at her absence, knowing that their parting was only temporary. He'd find her again once the details had been sorted. He heard sirens and hoped she'd got a decent enough head start. As long as she caught her train, she'd be okay. Harry prepared to look devastated as the ambulance came up the street. It wasn't hard to act broken. Ruth had left him like this once before, faking her death for him and those memories were swimming to the surface.

By the time paramedics game in, Harry was crying over a patch of fake blood on the carpet where Ruth had been.

All he had to do now was wait.

* * *

**Just the epilogue to go. Hope you've enjoyed my version of Series 10. (And it's been a little more uplifting than the screen version.)**


	9. 2 months later

**2 Months later**

Ruth was curled up on the sofa, book propped open on her knees, glass of red wine in hand as the late afternoon breeze drifted through the open French windows. She snapped her book shut and sighed. Harry was taking longer than she thought to find her and she missed him terribly. In a way, it was even worse than her exile for three years had been. Because this time, she knew he was coming for her. So all she had to do was sit and wait. But waiting sometimes seemed like an exhausting occupation. Malcolm had outdone himself though. He'd organised a beautiful house for them, complete with swimming pool and near the coast. It was stunning and she loved it. The only thing missing was Harry.

It was Ilya Gavrik's death which was taking the time. He had shots in him from two different guns, and two different directions, making the self defence line slightly shaky. As Harry was the only witness who was alive, it had taken a little while to clear his name. Longer than they'd hoped, but once his shady dealings had been uncovered, the establishment stopped worrying about his death.

Ruth felt very grateful for Malcolm, who still monitored the MI5 databases and hacked into several institutions to stay aware of what was happening. He visited Ruth every week or so to keep her up to date with Harry's movements. She could have done it herself, but she had a bit more faith in Malcolm's un-traceability than her own. After all, he was the tech guy, and had been for so many years.

Ruth put her wine glass down and sighed. She didn't have any regrets leaving Britain, but she didn't know how long she could manage like this. No word or calls from Harry. Not even a postcard, and it had been two months. Maybe the time away from her had served to show him that this was a rash move. Illogical and all, but maybe he no longer wanted to be with her. Out of sight, out of mind? No, she couldn't believe that of Harry, it was just these dark moments when she felt so lonely.

There was a knock on her door and she sighed. It would be Malcolm. He always came in the early evening, and she hadn't seen him for ten days now. With a sigh she got up and walked slowly to the door. She opened it, and her face froze. _Harry_. The look of complete shock and surprise must have disconcerted him, because his smile slipped from his face.

"Were you… expecting someone else?" he asked quietly.

"I thought you were Malcolm," she said after a moments silence. Then she managed to smile at him. He was really here, on her doorstep, looking almost as pleased and happy as she felt. "You're late."

"I know," he said. "I was only meant to be a few weeks, but they wanted me to work out my notice, and then Ilya's murder... I wanted to explain to Catherine that I wasn't vanishing for good too. It took time. But I'm here now."

"For good?" she asked, aware of how much hung on his answer.

"Yes," he said. She smiled broadly and opened the door wider.

"Then come in." He did and followed her through to the kitchen in silence. Once there she looked at him, really looked at him. The lines on his face seemed much less marked than they had and he looked happy. Without thinking about it, she pulled him into her arms and held him, feeling his solid and real presence against her body. He was warm and comforting, she thought as his hands rubbed up and down her back. And here. Most importantly he was here.

She smiled into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him. She drew back and then felt his hand underneath her chin. He tilted her face up and very gently, kissed her. It was soft and slow, a kiss of their reuniting. When they parted, neither of them spoke. Mostly because they had no idea what to say and Ruth frowned as she felt the old tension beginning to creep back in. Harry clearly felt it too and he went a little stiff.

"Look, I'm not expecting our… infamous tension to just vanish," she said. "But we have time."

He stroked her arms gently. "That we do," he agreed. "All the time in the world." She smiled at him and kissed him again. Just a brief peck, but the touch of their lips made her feel better.

"I have whisky for you," she said. "You have no idea how hard it was to track down a decent Scotch in the south of Spain."

"I can imagine," he said, sitting down, but taking hold of her hand anyway.

"So, do you want a drink?" she asked quietly.

"What I want… is to never let you go," he said, thumb stroking her knuckles gently. "You've faked your death twice for me. Please don't do it again."

"I'll do my best," she said, eyes glinting with unshed tears of happiness. He kissed the back of her hand and then smiled. They were together, after all the lies and spying, they had made it out the other side, a little worn and a little tired, but not broken. And that was worth everything.

* * *

**The end. Thank you for the reviews, and would love one last one.**


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